


A home away from home

by H_Faith_Marr



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Crossover, Existentialism, Firebending & Firebenders, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Headcanon, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, I guess???, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, POV Todoroki Shouto, POV Zuko (Avatar), Platonic Relationships, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, Worldbuilding, also set after zuko becomes fire lord duh, as expected with these boys, atla bnha swap, fragmented storytelling, i don't actually know what i'm doing so, i don't know canon so i'm gonna wing it, i'm also replacing mineta with shinsuo because i hate the grape and he should never have existed, it's probably going to hurt more than the summary and tags make it look, lmao enjoy the chaos, set when class 1a is in the dorms ignoring all other goings on unless convenient, speaking of tags these are a mess, thAT'S A TAG???, world swap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-01-23 09:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H_Faith_Marr/pseuds/H_Faith_Marr
Summary: Zuko really wants to fix the spirit problem with Aang, but that's kind of hard to do when he keeps getting sucked into another world withnot-bendingandweirdly concerned adults.Todoroki wants to be a hero. Hedid notsign up torule a country. No, your actual ruler being missing is not an excuse.Or - Chaos in the form of two of my favorite boys and world-switch shenanigans.
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta & Zuko (Avatar), Class 1-A & Todoroki Shouto, Class 1-A & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Todoroki Shouto, The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 1033
Kudos: 3426
Collections: A:tla, Behold the Sacred Texts, Mixed_Fics, My Hero Academia





	1. Zuko, First Swap

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aloneintherain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloneintherain/gifts).

> Guess who has an essay due in four hours, too many WIPs, and nothing to justify this but self-indulgence? Me, yes, you guessed entirely correctly, please stop throwing tomatoes. 
> 
> This is the result of aloneintherain's 'atla bnha swap' tag on their tumbler @captainkirkk. Your welcome.

One moment he is discussing the effects of reemerging spirits and possible disturbances in the spirit world with Aang as they stroll through his capital, and the next finds him flat on his back in the middle of a crater taking up the better part of a stone street.

Strange, angular structures tower in his peripheral, straight and sharp-edged except for where they are obviously damaged and crumbling. Screams, shouts, and the sickeningly familiar sound of gloating taunts spills over the lip of the hole. A boy with shockingly green hair and a face full of freckles kneels next to him, eyes blown wide and hands hovering uncertainly as if unsure how to help. 

Zuko pushes himself up to face the boy head on, the sounds of battle still echoing around them even as the conflict itself fades into stillness. He blinks, opens his mouth to speak—

“Midoriya, who’s this?”

Both boys quickly glance up at the man standing at the edge of the crater, arms crossed. Zuko can’t help but sit straighter at the man’s irritated expression, something cold settling in his chest as the man’s gaze pins him in place.

The boy, Midoriya, turns back to Zuko. “I was just going to ask him, sensei. But maybe we should get off the street?”

The boy’s sensei nods, and breaks eye contact as he steps back. “You’re right. Come on, then. This’ll be a mess if the press gets wind of it.” He pauses, glancing back at Zuko over his shoulder. “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to Todoroki, would you?”

Zuko stands without assistance and shakes his head apologetically, still trying to figure out _where he is._

Student and teacher both frown in concern, and glance at each other. 

Zuko tilts his face to the sky and takes a slow, deliberate breath, focusing on the flaring of his inner flame. There is something… odd, about it. Unthinkingly, the first thing he says in this strange world is, “The sun feels different here.”

The other two share another look. Zuko finds he doesn’t actually want to know what that’s about.

He’s led to a group of teenagers, all wearing the same grey uniform as the green-haired boy. They’re all being carefully ushered away from the scene of battle, the dark-clothed teacher seemingly trying to move them all before anyone can ask any questions.

Seeing as no-one had been overtly hostile yet, and knowing that these people probably know more about what is going on than he does, Zuko follows. A quick glance from the teacher confirms that, yes, the man had expected this of him anyway. Zuko is sure that the man probably has just as many questions for him as he does for them. In fact, Zuko kind of wants to start writing down his questions, so he can ask them in an order that makes sense, the most important questions first.

Like, why does their school look more like a fortress?

Zuko casts an assessing gaze over the walls. It _looks_ intimidating, at first, but as they near it… It would maybe take, what, an hour for the Blue Spirit to get in? The first wall is hardly a hurdle, for anyone agile enough, and the walls of the building itself don’t look very sturdy as far as simple entrance goes… Though if Zuko were to be more focused on stealth, he might need an extra half-hour or so to slip through their defences. There would certainly be hidden measures, of course, this place he finds himself in does seem rather advanced. But they’re taking him right in the front door, right? So it wouldn’t be _too_ hard, if he keeps his eyes open, to find workarounds… And hey, if they let him in the front gates, can they really expect him _not_ to plot how to get in _without_ permission? Or even how to _escape_ if it turns out that he can’t trust these people. Which is likely. Not like he trusts them in the first place, but...

The prickling of eyes on the back of his neck, no doubt from the glowering teacher, prompts Zuko to avert his eyes from the towering structure. 

Zuko, following Class 1A, steps through the front gates of UA High School. He has _no idea_ what he just walked into.

\-----

Refusing to fidget under their combined gazes, Zuko stares right back up at the collected teachers and staff. People who call themselves names like Cementoss, Present Mic, and _All Might_. What appears to be law enforcement officers stand to one side, observing the meeting with sharp eyes (and more than a few of them with the heads of animals, uncannily reminding Zuko of all the spirit sightings back in his nation). The first teacher, the one from the crater, introduced himself as Aizawa (a thankfully normal name). 

Aizawa, after a long standoff, was the first to break the silence. “We are responsible for our students. One, Todoroki Shouto, went missing when we found you. So I need to know: who are you, and why are you here?”

Straightening at this point seems rather redundant, but Zuko does anyway. “I am Fire Lord Zuko... though you don’t really need to use the title. I don’t know how I got here, but before...”

He trails off. How does one go about explaining their international –inter_dimensional_— problems with spirits?

“Fire _Lord._” Aizawa repeats, face expressionless.

“Yes? Oh, right,” he backtracks, feeling a little foolish. “Different world. Well, back in my world, I rule the Fire Nation.”

“You rule a nation.” He says, stating the obvious, again, as if it isn’t getting processed.

“Basically one third of the world,” Zuko clarifies, wondering if that was even what needed clarification. “Though the Avatar has more influence than I do, and the other two thirds of the world kind of hate us…” He winces. “But that’s a long story.” And one he doesn’t particularly want to tell.

Unfortunately, this piques Aizawa’s interest. “We have time. If you’re here, it’s possible that my student is where you’re from, and I need to know all I can about what he might be facing.”

Breathe in, hold, out. Okay. Sure. Zuko can talk about that, that’s fine. “So, there’s been some turmoil recently, with spirits and disturbances in the Spirit World on top of that. I was coronated about two weeks ago? Before that Ozai was Fire Lord… my father.” He grimaces in distast and other emotions he doesn’t want to acknowledge, but continues. “Aang –the Avatar— removed him from power. There was a war that had been going on for a hundred years, started by my grandfather, and we were working to stop it… But a hundred years is a long time, and my people were the antagonists…” An old, coiling guilt curdles in his stomach and he closes his eyes, takes another deep breath. “There used to be four nations.”

There is a long pause, where no one speaks.

Without opening his eyes, without relaxing at all, Zuko assures. “In all of that, your student is with Aang and his friends, the Avatar and his teachers, in one of the most secure places that exists. He’ll be fine, and in all likelihood Aang will find a way to get him home to you. So while I’m sure you’ll still worry, you don’t need to.”

(His voice does not shake.)

When there is still no response, he finally looks back up. But Aizawa’s focus is on one of the spirit-dog officers. The dog-headed man just nods, as if confirming something. Aizawa slumps almost imperceptibly, and Zuko wouldn’t have noticed if he were anyone else. 

As it is, Aizawa turns to face him again. “Zuko, was it? Seeing as you have been honest and cooperative with us, we might be able to help you. Todoroki had been hit by a rather unusual and unpredictable quirk when you… appeared. We can look into it, and how to get you home. Until then, there are some other things we need to know in order to accommodate your stay here.”

That’s when his situation finally sinks in. He’s in a different world, right now, and _his people need him_. Has Aang figured out what has unsettled the spirits? Has he told the Earth King and the Water Tribe Chiefs about it? Is a plan to soothe the spirits in place? Have his people, the ones who went missing or were _taken_, are they okay? And that’s not even touching on the political tensions still held between the nations, and the unrest in his own people. He needs to get back, he needs to get back _now_—

Breathe, Zuko, remember to _breathe._

Years with Azula, later Iroh, and even the measly two weeks as Fire Lord, are enough to keep all this from his face. Or at least, enough that you’d have to _know_ to see it, he hopes. He takes a breath, answers. “Of course. What do you need to know?”

(His. Voice. Does. Not. Shake.)

Somehow Aizawa is already taking notes before Zuko even spoke, and asks the first question without looking up. “Do you have a quirk?”

It’s his turn to repeat the other. “Quirk?”

“An ability, or ‘power’, that’s not held by others,” the one called All Might explains with a grin. “Something you can do that no one else can.”

“I’m a firebender?” Zuko offers. “Though it’s not really unique to me…”

“What does being a ‘firebender’ entail?” Aizawa prompts with a tight frown.

Zuko hesitates. He’s never had to explain _bending_ to someone before… “I can make fire? And control it? But there’s more than that, it’s really complicated... “

Aizawa sighs, as if resigning himself to something. “Complicated how?”

“It’s connected to my life force, my inner fire. It’s the same for all firebenders.” He never thought he’d see the day there’d be someone who doesn’t know about firebending. “And, while the fire comes from inside us, we draw power and strength from Agni, the sun.”

These pauses are becoming familiar.

“I’m not one of the best, though,” Zuko adds with a frown. “I can redirect lightning, but my sister can _make it_.” 

Aizawa looks as if he might address the obvious implication there, but instead asks. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.” He answers simply, still thinking about his sister. 

The silence is _tense_.

Aizawa takes a deep breath. “How active were you in this war of yours?”

“I guess I was technically an active participant for the first three years of my banishment?” He finally drags his mind to the present issue, debating with himself. “Didn’t really see much action until I found Aang and started chasing him around. Then I went home after accidentally conquering Ba Sing Se with Azula, but realized that wasn’t what I wanted, and confronted my father with his terrible parenting before escaping the palace and joining the Avatar to teach him firebending.” He grimaces at the memory of when he first joined them, quickly moving on. “And then we invaded the Fire Nation, and while he went to deal with the Fire Lord I dueled my sister and got shot full of lightning. But I lived! And became Fire Lord. So _that_ was interesting.”

He blinks, furrowing his brow. “Did that answer the question? I think I just started rambling. I’ve never had to _explain_ it…” A small smile twitches the corner of his mouth. “I guess Aang’s been a bad influence.”

“Hold on, back up.” Present Mic steps forward, putting a hand on Aizawa’s shoulder as if steadying himself. “You accidentally conquered a city.”

“With my sister, yeah.” Zuko confirms.

“The sister that fought you with lightning.”

“Yeah? I just said that.”

“Because you were invading the country you now rule.”

“Are you just going to repeat everything I just told you?”

Aizawa rubs his temple in a gesture strangely reminiscent of Uncle Iroh. “How old are you again?”

Zuko rolls his eyes. “Sixteen. Do you want me to repeat everything else?”

All the adults are sharing a look that Zuko would tentatively label _concern_ if it had been on any of the gaang or his uncle, but it’s a look that on anyone else just looks confusing. 

Aizawa sighs again. “Do you think you could demonstrate this firebending for us? In a controlled environment,” he specifies with narrowed eyes, as if Zuko is just going to pull some fire out right now. 

(Which he might have been thinking about doing. Maybe. But he’s getting a little impatient, okay?)

“I mean, sure.” He accedes awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m pretty average, my sister would be able to give you a better demonstration—”

“No offense,” Aizawa cuts him off, his tone implying that his next words are probably going to be _very offensive_. “But I don’t think I’d want to have your sister anywhere near my students.”

“That’s fair,” Zuko agrees with ease. “She’s crazy anyway. Tried to kill me a few times, but it’s not like I haven’t been expecting it.”

“Your sister _tried to kill you_?” Present Mic screeches, causing everyone else in the room to flinch.

Zuko scowls. “What did you get from the ‘shooting me full of lightning’ story? It wasn't even seed lightning." He crosses his arms and looks away. "She was always father’s favorite, anyway, but I was a problem as far as line of succession went. I was in her way. Though,” he adds, thoughtful. “The line of succession was already messed up when Father usurped Uncle’s place by getting Mother to kill Grandfather and change the records so Father wouldn’t kill me, though I didn’t learn about that until a month or so ago. He also probably orchestrated my cousin’s death at the front lines while uncle was still Crown Prince, but Uncle never confirmed that.”

Aizawa sighs and slumps, head in his hands. “Zuko…”

The exasperation reminds the young Fire Lord of his uncle, a little. 

Cementoss clears his throat pointedly. 

All Might stepped forward, grin unabating. “Yes, well, why don’t we set up young Zuko in the dorms? And while he’s settling we can discuss… options.”

By no means oblivious to others’ manipulations and machinations (he grew up with _Azula_ after all), Zuko tries to ignore the uneasy queasiness inspired by the easy sidestepping of whatever the issue actually is as Aizawa calls Midoriya back to show him around the dorms. 

And, just as familiar, Zuko feels like he’s missing something important, something big.

(Ignoring this feeling is familiar too.)

Though he _does_ wonder what happened to that Todoroki kid…


	2. Shoto, First Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who are these kids, and why do they keep implying that Shoto is a spirit? Does he look dead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hey guess who's back. It's me. I'm back. With a chapter.

Shoto remembers getting hit by some bright, flashy quirk. For some reason, instead of being crushed into the ground like any normal person, he ends up standing in a torch-lit hall with a small bald kid covered head-to-toe with tattoos. 

Almost as soon as he’s registering that fact the kid sees _him_ and startles. Jumping _several feet into the air._

Sure, air-based quirk, why not.

The kid, suddenly, is very much in Shoto’s personal bubble with his face very close. “Who are _you_? What happened to Zuko? Are you a spirit? We were just talking about spirits, and how to try to fix the Spirit World, but you don’t _feel_ like a spirit.”

Spirits?

Carefully, the displaced student steps out of the kid’s direct vicinity. “...you can call me Todoroki. Who exactly are _you_? And… where are we?”

“Oh! My name’s Aang, I’m the Avatar!” The kid’s grin widens somehow as grabs Shoto’s hand to shake rather aggressively, sort of like Midoriya when he’s excited. Abruptly, he releases him to make a grand gesture at their surroundings. “And this is the Fire Nation palace! Do you know Zuko? Or what happened to him? He’s the Fire Lord, so we kinda need him to come back, especially since the Water Tribes and the Earth Kingdom kinda still don’t trust him and if he goes missing they might get suspicious. Not to mention Zuko’s always worrying about someone trying to overthrow him. I mean, we’ve already dealt with _one_ assasination attempt, but he and Toph are convinced that someone will try again. So we kinda really need to find him, you know?”

Shoto begins seriously considering the possibility that this is a blunt-force-trauma-induced coma-dream, except he doesn’t think his subconscious could come up with something this… _this._

The kid, Aang, frowns, waving a hand in front of Shouto’s face. “Helloooo? You there?”

Shoto blinks. “Yes, it’s just… A lot. To process.”

Aang’s expression shifts to mirror his confused one. “Where are _you_ from, then?”

“Not here.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes. “I know _that_.” He perks up. “I know! We should go talk to the others, maybe they can help figure out how to find Zuko!”

Shoto isn’t exactly sure how that fit with the most recent part of their conversation, but humours the kid and allows himself to be dragged along behind while Aang chatters at him and bounces ahead, leading him to these ‘others.’

‘Others’ being a giant, fluffy animal of some kind, a boy and a girl having a screaming match, a handful of girls in various shades of red or pink and one in green standing off to one side, and a smaller, dark-haired girl laughing hysterically. Or maniacally, Shouto can’t really tell the difference, and doesn’t really want to.

The girl with an impressive lung capacity turns to them when they appear and doesn’t lower her volume at all. “Aang! Tell Sokka that he can’t take Appa just so he and Suki can go on a date halfway across the Fire Na— Who is _that_?”

Shoto winces at the near-shriek, and waves awkwardly. “Uh, hey?”

(Everyone is _looking_ at him. He hates it.)

“This is Todoroki!” Aang introduces him, as chipper as Midoriya. “He... kinda randomly popped into existence where Zuko was standing? And Zuko disappeared. So that’s a problem. But Todoroki! So... yay?”

The boy from the shouting match marches right up to Shoto and leans right into his personal space (what was _with_ these people and _ignoring boundaries_?). “Aang, how do we know that this guy isn’t part of another plot to _get rid of_ Zuko?”

Aang’s grin turns sheepish. “He, ah, might also be a spirit? I mean, he _looks_ like one…”

Something flickers in the corner of his eye, and he reflexively brings up a wall of ice between him and the projectiles. Several rocks embed themselves in the ice wall with loud crashes while others clatter to the ground. 

The small dark-haired girl smirks (and from this close the milky film over her eyes is obvious and wow is this kid blind?). “He’s not turning into a rage-monster to try to kill me, so I’d say he isn’t a spirit.”

“I could have told you that,” he points out, grudgingly using his left side to melt the ice.

The group falls silent, staring.

He falters, snuffing his flame. “You called this place the _Fire_ Nation, right?”

“Yeah, thats,” the boy in blue clears his throat. “That’s not the… weird part.”

Aang, beside him, his _vibrating_. He opens his mouth and all Shoto can think is _oh no_.

“YOU CAN BEND MORE THAN ONE ELEMENT?”

Shoto stumbles back, hands up to ward off the over-excited boy. “Uh, what?”

The small, possibly-blind(-what-does-he-do-with-that-information) girl chuckles. “I don’t think he knows what you’re talking about, Twinkle Toes.”

Shoto takes the resulting, shocked pause as opportunity to ask. “What’s bending?”

Ten minutes later, sitting in a circle on the grass with Aang and a bunch of people who still haven’t introduced themselves, while trying to understand what they’re saying as they talk over each other, he still doesn’t think he understands.

Shoto rolls his eyes and interrupts their bickering. “So let’s see if I’ve got this straight.”

With a little grumbling, the others fall silent, waiting.

“There are four elements.” He starts, counting his points off on his fingers. “Some people can control them. But only Aang over here can control all of them. And you’re confused because I made a wall of ice, and then melted it with fire. Right? Am I missing anything?”

The still-unnamed boy nods. “Yeah, that’s about sums it up.”

“Okay,” Shoto holds up a hand to forstall their questions. “I’ll explain what I can in a moment, but I have a few things I want to know first. Like, who’s this Zuko person? And who are all of _you_?”

There is another moment of silence, broken by the blind girls’ (maniacal, definitely maniacal) laughter. “Wow, guys, we have such great manners!” She marches over to him without hesitation, sticking a hand out. “I’m Toph, the best earthbender in the world, and you’d be wise not to forget it!”

Amused, Shoto shakes her hand and turns to the next person, ignoring her little snort. 

“Name’s Sokka.” The boy puffs out his chest. “I’m the one who planned the invasion. And since we’re here now, you can tell how successful that was.”

The girl (his sister?) smacks him upside the head. “Todoroki wouldn’t know about the war, genius. He’s obviously not _from_ here.” She turns to smile at Shoto. “Excuse my brother, he can be a bit of an idiot sometimes. I’m Katara.”

Shoto turns to the other girls, who had mostly stayed quiet. The one in green offers him a small smile. “I’m Suki. I lead a group called the Kyoshi Warriors, if you’re ever interested in training with us.”

The girl in pink is waiting impatiently for her turn, seemingly utilizing all of her willpower to hold herself together. Her grin, already impossibly wide, grows wider when she realizes it’s her turn, and she bounces in place a little. “Hello! I’m Ty Lee. And you’re really, _really_ pretty!”

The dark-haired girl beside her rolls her eyes. Her introduction is a monosyllabic, “Mai.”

“And Zuko…” Katara hesitates, falters as if just realizing what Shoto being here _means_, and clasps her hands in front of her. “He’s the Fire Lord. He was our friend first, and before that he was chasing us around trying to capture Aang, but... that’s because his father is awful.”

“Aang had to fight him and take away his bending so we could lock him up.” Sokka informs him with a wry smirk, an expression that Shoto is familiar with, one that almost always means that there is another emotion there trying to hide. “And Zuko was kinda the only one who could take the throne after that, because his sister is crazy unstable and his uncle is a little old. Don’t get me wrong, I love Iroh! But…”

“Heirs are important, Uncle’s not having any more,” Toph finishes for him, impatient. “Yadda yadda yadda. Uncle could have still taken the throne until Sparky was _ready_ for it. We all know he’s working himself into the ground.”

Suki sighs. “We’ve talked about this, Toph. _Zuko wouldn’t let him_. He wanted his uncle to have _peace_ for once. It’s not like Iroh isn’t still guiding him from behind the scenes.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that his Royal Highness is _wrecking_ himself trying to fix everything.” Toph holds stubbornly, arms crossed, glaring sightlessly. “It’s bad enough that he _blames himself_ for the things his country has done as if he’s solely responsible. You _know_ he’s going to beat himself up about it whenever he messes up, no matter how small the mistake is, and he _won’t let us help._ You _know_ that.”

Mai and Ty Lee, Shoto notes, were talking quietly underneath the others’ discussion, and at some point during Toph’s argument Ty Lee had slipped away. Now, Mai steps in.

“We should talk to Iroh.”

The heated, rehashed debate cuts off abruptly, everyone staring at the quiet girl. 

Aang blinks, frowning. “Doesn’t Iroh already know…?”

Mai scoffs, and nods once at the stranger in their midst. “Not about _him_.”

Once again, Shoto is the center of everyone’s gaze. He forces himself to relax his taut shoulders. “Do I _want_ to meet him?”

“Oh, yeah, Iroh’s the best!” Aang assures him, somehow already on his feet, and still _grinning_. “He’ll love you!”

Which is a statement Shoto inherently doubts. This Iroh person has no obligation to him, hasn’t even _met_ him. In fact, Shoto has just _replaced his nephew_, how would he be okay with that? But if he has any idea about _what the hell is going on_ then Shoto’s willing to give him a chance. 

“Shouldn’t we know who we’re introducing to him? A name isn’t much.” Suki points out, hands on her hips and a tight, thoughtful frown on her face. She turns to Shoto. “You said you’d explain?”

He hesitates, furrowing his brow as he tries to figure out where to start. “Where I’m from,” he begins, “we don’t have ‘bending,’ but we do have Quirks. They are unique to each individual, and mine is half-hot half-cold. Fire and ice, basically. And my world is… a lot more advanced, let’s say.” He pauses, takes a good look around. “I’d say this looks almost like ancient Japan, actually. So in a few hundred years, your world could look like mine. Maybe.”

“So how did you get _here_?” Ty Lee asks, leaning forward eagerly. 

Shoto shrugs. “I got hit by someone’s Quirk in the middle of a fight, I guess.”

“Wait, so if you’re here…” Katara interjects, voice thrumming with anxiety. “Is Zuko in a fight right now?”

Taken aback, Shoto hurries to reassure her. “I think he’s okay. Midoriya was wrapping it up when I got hit, so he should be fine. My friends won’t let anything happen to him.” 

Of that, at least, he is sure. 

“Let’s _go_ then!” Toph demands, stomping her foot. “All this waffling isn’t gonna get Sparky back or this guy home.”

“Okay, okay,” Sokka relents for all of them. “We’ll take him to see Iroh.”

\-----

Iroh is somehow both unassuming and terrifying in equal measure. Shoto can’t explain it, and doesn’t think he wants to even try. The old man _seems_ harmless enough… but also like he’s _skillfully hiding_ something that could very well kill you. Shoto can respect that, at least.

He also makes pretty good tea.

Sitting across from the man, steam rising between them, Shoto doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. _Sorry about your nephew? Is your country going to be okay without its leader? Do you know how I can get home?_

The old man takes another sip of his tea, then places it carefully down on its saucer with a gusty sigh. “Ah, a wonderful brew. Perfect for unwinding before a bit of business, hm? But, for the matter at hand.” He folds his hands into his sleeves, and that simple actions somehow shifts his entire demeanor from jolly to solemn. “I only have one question for you, young Todoroki. Is my nephew somewhere safe?”

Following Iroh’s lead, Shoto puts his cup down too. With matched calm, he replies. “By now, I would suspect that he has been brought to my school by one of my more powerful classmates, and it is not an exaggeration to call it a fortress. It was designed to protect the students within from any force imaginable. I’m sure your nephew is fine.”

Seemingly satisfied, Iroh smiles. “And I am sure that Avatar Aang will be able to find whatever spirit that brought you here and convince them to take you home.” 

Shoto bows his head. “Thank you.”

The old uncle’s grin widens, and the boy abruptly remembers that this man is part of the royal family. He pulls his hands from his sleeves to rest them on the edge of the table, leaning forward㇐

“Do you have Pai Sho in your world?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl Iroh's not as chill as he seems, but he's had a lot of practice looking calm, so...
> 
> Also, if I wrote Todoroki OOC, tell me? Or any of the folks in BNHA, actually. I'm deeper in the ATLA fandom, so... (Actually, on second thought, if _anyone_ seems OOC... well, you get the picture.)
> 
> And, ah, one last thing. I think I've accidentally made this more Zuko-centric? I'll try to balance it out more in later chapters, but his problems are a bit more... obvious. So. That happened.
> 
> EDIT 11/30/19: Next chapter will hopefully be up late December. Thank you all for reading!


	3. Zuko, First Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko hasn’t actually interacted with many kids his age who he hasn’t traumatized or done poorly by, and it shows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually hadn't planned on finishing this chapter for another week or so, but I was kinda riding the high from having my last classes yesterday. Now I only have to worry about finals! Yay!

“...and so my Quirk is actually really complicated and weird that way, because most people get them when they’re kids. Since mine manifested so late, I have to be _really careful_ with it.”

Zuko nods along, so fascinated by this _not-bending_ and how _diverse_ it is (and semi-successfully ignoring how late his _own_ bending manifested) that he hadn’t noticed they had reached another door.

Midoriya pauses, hands clasped together as he fiddles with his thumbs. “Well, here we are! The others are probably all on the other side waiting for news… do you want me to go run them off, or...?”

And Zuko realizes he has no idea what to do here. _They’re_ the ones that _live_ here, but on the other hand, he doesn’t particularly want to get mobbed by a bunch of strangers whose abilities he has no concept of beyond a vague idea that they are more complex and powerful than he could ever dream up, and the fact that he has no idea how to fight them. 

But... these people aren’t predisposed to hate him. They have never heard of the Fire Nation, he’s never chased them around the world, he’s never stolen from them, never hurt them. They might… actually be easier to get along with at first than any other person his age he’s had the chance to meet. And if that isn’t completely unprecedented…

He settles on. “They’re the ones that live here.”

Midoriya shoots him a small smile of what he would imagine _approval_ looks like but the door is swinging open before Zuko can parse out what it means.

There is a certain brand of silence that only comes about when a group of people stop talking suddenly when the subject of their conversation enters the room. Zuko is intimately familiar with it, and is disappointed that it followed him here.

He half-waves, trying for a smile. “Uh, hello?”

He’s _not_ going to say ‘Zuko, here.’ _That_ has already proved to be the wrong way to introduce himself.

The seven people in the room greet him with varying levels of cheeriness, a babble of voices rising again to fill the awkward silence, inviting him to come sit, asking him questions. It’s strange, to have people meet him for the first time and act _friendly_ and _relaxed_… but it’s nice. 

It’s really... really nice. 

(If he can ignore how the almost aggressive friendliness is serving to put him so on edge that he’s sure he’ll grind his teeth down to nothing, that is. Can people actually be, well, _like this_ with a strange person who replaced their friend and may or may not be hostile? Do they really trust so _easily?_

Do they have no self-preservation at all, or are they _that_ confident that they can take him on, if it comes down to it?)

Midoriya introduces him, and the introductions of the others, at least, are intriguing.

The first to offer up their name is a dark-haired, stern-faced boy named Iida, who appears rather adamant that Zuko should enjoy his stay here, and not worry too much about getting himself home. Iida seems to have complete faith that his teachers will sort everything out to everyone’s satisfaction eventually.

(‘Eventually’ does not bring Zuko any particular comfort)

The second is the exuberant, bright pink Ashido. She looks rather… inhuman, including aspects _besides_ her vibrant skin. If ever there was a spirit version of Ty Lee, if a bit more of a troublemaker, it would be Ashido. 

(_Is_ she a spirit? Or are people actually so diverse here?)

Then there are the other girls, introductions coming faster: the short-haired, bubbly brunette; the one with choppy black hair and an air of disinterest that reminds him of Mai; the dark-haired one with an air of authority. Uraraka, Jiro, Yaoyorozu. Remember the names, remember the names...

(They look like they could be Earth and Fire and _Fire_ but he gets the feeling that this place is nothing at all like home, so he shouldn’t get his hopes up looking for something familiar)

And one boy with shaggy hair and a wide smile and… oddly shaped elbows. He calls himself Sero.

(Don’t _look_, don’t be rude, how would Zuko like it if someone stared at his _scar_—)

The last boy, with fire-red hair and sharp teeth smiles like they are old friends, voice booming in welcome.

(Zuko has had too much experience with smiles like that to trust this _Kirishima_ right away, or maybe at all)

When he thinks the introductions are done, yet _another_ thing gives him reason to pause. There are… clothes. Floating, in the shape of a person. The air _speaks_.

(Her name is Hagakure and she is _invisible_ and wow, Zuko wishes he could do that. It would make sneaking away from his guards so much easier… Not that he sneaks away from Fire-Lord-ing to reminisce and revisit the freedom of his Blue Spirit days, nope, not at all...)

Now that he knows that the girl is there, though, even when no one is particularly trying to be quiet, it’s hard to miss her.

“Do you meditate?” He asks her, the first that he’s voluntarily contributed to the ongoing, buzzing conversation besides his name.

She startles. He _feels_ her startle, even though her uniform doesn’t move. There was a flinch, a flicker of warmth and air and… that would be useful to remember, later, <s>if he ever has to fight her.</s>

But right now he continues, slowly. “Breath control is important for stealth. If your enemies can’t hear you breathe, they won’t even know you’re there.”

While he has long ago attuned himself to feel the slightest hint of displaced in air, he also is very familiar with what it feels like when someone is giving him an _are-you-for-real_ look.

“If you can walk quietly enough, that is,” he adds almost absently, furrowing his brow as he gives it some more thought. “Though that only takes a bit of practice, really. You’d have to put your foot down toe-heel, though, not heel-toe like most people walk. It distributes your weight differently.”

“Could… you show me?” She asks, hesitant. From the way her sleeves move Zuko would guess she is fiddling with her hands.

The others lean forward, obviously intrigued. 

For a split second Zuko wonders how he ever managed to teach Aang anything when being put on the spot like this makes him want to hide behind the couch, and then he remembers that he is somehow managing being _Fire Lord_, so okay, this is easy in comparison. At least none of these people hate him or want to kill him. Probably. Though he’s not going to say manipulation is off the table, especially with how everyone is still _smiling_.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, if you want me to? Just… close your eyes, or something. And listen closely. Give me... thirty seconds, then point to where you think I am.”

Zuko doesn’t actually expect them to play along, but when everyone closes their eyes he steps back into his Blue Spirit stance readily enough. But where to go? Should he just walk around the room? Slip out the door and disappear entirely?

Oh, wait, no. He has a better idea.

Once the thirty seconds are up, Iida calls it. Everyone points (all in different directions, none of them correct) and open their eyes. Zuko sees the exact moment they realize that he is nowhere to be seen, a collective widening of the eyes and a few gasps of shock. Half of them jump to their feet and spin around, as if they can spot him if they move quickly enough. 

“Zuko?” Midoriya calls, anxiety audible in his voice. “Where did you go?”

Finally deciding to take pity on them, he huffs a faint laugh. He doesn’t need to say anything else, because that small sound is all they needed to pinpoint his location, heads swiveling up to pin him to the corner of the ceiling he has pressed himself in.

“How do you _do_ that?” Ashido squeals, moving to stand just below him. “Is it your Quirk? Can you stick to walls or something?”

Zuko’s arms are starting to tremble from the pressure necessary to hold himself up, pushing back and _against_ the walls so the opposing forces keep him in place. Now that the demonstration is over, however, he can let himself drop lightly to his feet.

Rolling his shoulders to relieve some of the tension, he allows himself a small smile. “I can’t stick to walls, no. It actually took me a long time to perfect that little trick.”

“Dude,” Kirishima breathes in… awe? Is that what awe looks like? “Are you a spy? A ninja?”

_Sokka would say so. He’d think this entire scenario would be hilarious, too. _

Zuko quickly brushes that thought aside. He needs to stay focused on the here and now if he wants to even have the _opportunity_ to tell the story to his friends.

Right, he’s in the middle of a conversation.

“Kinda?” He acknowledges thoughtfully. “But not really.”

“Wait, so if _that_ isn’t your Quirk,” Jiro waves up at the corner where Zuko had hidden. “What is?”

“Ah,” he hesitates, crossing his arms for lack of something better to do with them. “I’m a firebender. We don’t really call it a Quirk, where I’m from, but I’ve already talked to some of your teachers about that.”

“_Fire_bender?” Yaoyorozu repeats with a thoughtful frown. “So you can manipulate fire?”

“And make it. I’m connected to fire, in a sense. It’s… really weird to explain.”

“You don’t have to,” Uraraka assures him. “We were just curious.”

“Could you show us?” Kirishima is nearly _vibrating_, that can’t possibly be good for him... “Todoroki has a fire Quirk, and he doesn’t use it very often, but it’s so… so… _manly_.”

Zuko almost chokes on that unexpected descriptor but holds his tongue.

The sharp-toothed boy doesn’t seem to notice, continuing. “So it would be really awesome to actually see someone with a fire Quirk up close, you know what I’m saying?”

Gaze flickering around the room, no one seems inclined to stop him. Is this allowed? Aizawa seemed pretty adamant about showing them in a controlled environment…

“You _can_ control it, right?” Jiro prods.

_Of course_ he can control it, that isn’t the point—

Zuko pauses, centers himself, and sighs. “Alright, if you really want to see it…”

Ignoring their assurances that yes, they definitely want to see it, he focuses on his breathing. In, hold, out. He holds out one hand, palm up, and carefully ignites the smallest flame. Flickers of blue and green and pink slip between the familiar tongues of orange and red, casting a multi-hued glow on the surrounding faces. 

_“Woah.”_

Zuko glances sideways at Hagakure, and carefully feeds the flickering fire before raising his other hand to shape it into a small dragon. Her gasp of delight as the miniature legend rears up and breathes flame of its own is worth the extra effort.

Concentrating on keeping the fire small, without smoke, and relatively cool, he takes it a step further and adds a second dragon, specifically coloring them red and blue respectively. Reaching back into memory, Zuko replays the events of his and Aang’s meeting with the masters, including two tiny figures (one a russet red and the other flickering gold) standing in the palm of his hand, heads turning to watch the flight of the dragons in awe. 

A sudden, heavy wave of nostalgia prompts him to close his fist, let the fire fizzle out, and lower his hands.

The others have fallen silent, staring. 

Was it too much? Did they think he was showing off? Or have they realized just how dangerous he is, how easily he could destroy their home? They said their friend (Todoroki, the one who is missing, the one who he replaced) doesn’t use his fire very often… did he have a reason for that?

Thankfully, the door to the dorms swings open before Zuko can _really_ work himself up. Less thankfully, Aizawa looks even less impressed than every other time Zuko has seen him.

“Zuko.” There is no obvious reproval in his tone, but Zuko knows that voice. It’s the _I’m-watching-so-you-better-behave_ voice. “We’ve figured out the logistics on our end. You can use Todoroki’s room for now, until we set up a different one for you. I’m sure my students would be willing to show you were it is.”

The last is not a question, but the others nod along anyway. Midoriya even goes to far as to grab Zuko’s arm and start pulling. “This way!”

After a brief flash of uncertainty, Zuko mentally sighs. At least chipper, friendly kids exist across universes. If Midoriya is anything like Aang, Zuko should be safe enough here. 

Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Team Zuko (1/5): Hagakure
> 
> Now, with Christmas approaching, time management is going to get a bit weird. The next chapter could be up in three days. It could be up as late as February. Who knows.


	4. Shoto, First Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in which Shoto gets lovingly bullied into helping run this random country while the real ruler is gone, starts to feel really sorry for the poor sod who’s usually stuck with this job, and gets an Uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeey, guess who's back with a new chapter! Yes, it's me! I'm alive! Yay!

That evening, Shoto finds himself in full Fire Lord regalia, sitting in the Fire Lord’s throne room. He’s not quite sure how he got here, but he blames Toph. He said _no_, dammit, why is he here?

(Trick question, of course. He knows he’s here because there’s no one else who wouldn’t plunge the whole world back into a war that had already been going on for a hundred years that the people would accept. The thought is terrifying).

The royal advisors taking turns to drone on in front of him either don’t care that their lord has been replaced by a high-schooler from another dimension or are trying very hard to appear so. Toph, cackling like a gremlin, had informed Shoto that they all thought he was a spirit sent to stand in for their new Fire Lord while Zuko is off being personally tutored by their sun deity or some other such nonsense. But really, how are they okay with a random teenager ruling them again? How are they okay with _any_ teenager ruling them?

<s>But oh, wait, did ancient Japan have any concept of teenagers at all, or was it just children and adults…?</s>

The advisor finishes his rambling with a dramatic flourish that leaves Shoto distinctly unimpressed. It’s been, what, an hour? Just to wax philosophical about grain tariffs? And really, how is _Shoto_ supposed to know what to do about it? He isn’t even _from_ here! 

All the same, he brushes the man off with one of the many niceties that Iroh had ingrained into him over the course of the afternoon for just such an occasion, and resettles on the oddly comfortably-uncomfortable throne. He’s tempted to just cross his legs and slouch on one of the arms in the most relaxed and uncaring fashion he can manage. He _would_, if this weren’t someone else’s reputation he’s holding up. Someone who, as far as he can tell, truly _does_ care about his people and his responsibilities. That is, if the way people interacted with _him_ is any indication. 

Whoever this Zuko character is, he’s lucky to have Iroh as an uncle. Without the retired general’s patient guidance, Shoto is absolutely certain he would have crashed and burned by now, probably taking the rest of the country (and possibly the world) down with him with how much power these people have carelessly left in his hands. With how much power they had already entrusted to a _different_ teenager. One who, as far as Aang and the others have explained, was a fugitive and legally a traitor from at least a few years before his ascension after being literally _banished_. Shoto’s not even going to pretend to understand that. 

Though, if he had Iroh… Well, Shoto can kind of see it. At least the anecdotes he can scrounge up about Zuko are better than the horror story that is _Ozai_. The previous Fire Lord is too much like, well… like Endeavor. Like Todoroki Enji. 

Like Shoto’s own _father_. 

He briefly wonders if that similarity was why the two boys were switched, as some kind of cosmic joke, or if it was simply some sick coincidence. He wonders if he actually even wants to know. 

The last petitioner of the day bows his way out of the room and Shoto breathes a sigh of relief, finally taking the opportunity to stretch out the kinks from sitting straight all day. There are still guards at the doors, of course, and they _do_ look a little queasy when he arches his back and it cracks with a series of firecracker pops, but he doesn’t care too much at this point. He cares even less when the door slams open and Toph marches into the room with her signature smug grin. 

She waves up in his general direction, not bothering to turn her head. “Hey, Snowflake. How’s it hanging?” 

Shoto ignores the question in favor of shooting an unimpressed look in her direction. He knows she can’t see it, but he also knows that she’ll be able to tell what he’s getting at anyway. (He briefly wonders why he thinks he knows her so well already, but dismisses it a moment later). 

Case in point, she cackles. “That bad? It couldn’t be terrible; _Sparky_ never complains.” 

Shoto rolls his eyes as he finally gets to his feet. “From what I’ve heard, he also has an incredible tolerance for annoyances.” 

Aang bounds into the room with all the exuberance of a golden retriever before Toph has a chance to respond. “You’re done for the day, Todoroki? What are you doing now?” 

"Talking about you,” Toph quips, nudging Shoto in the side as she does. 

The ghost of a smile crosses his face, too quick for anyone to definitively have proof that it was ever there (just the way he likes it). 

Though the small spark of humor dies fast when Sokka and Iroh follow the boy in, serious expressions of concentration on their faces. Well, on _Iroh’s_ face— Sokka’s is hidden behind a scroll as he mutters to himself. 

(A low, thrumming anxiety twists just below his ribcage, but Shoto pushes it down with all due ferocity, along with the odd comparison his mind wants to draw between Sokka and _Midoriya_. He doesn’t have _time_ for that. He needs to know how to get home and how to run this post-war-torn country in the meantime without letting on that he _isn’t_ a spirit and has _no idea what he’s doing_). 

Sokka lifts his head and offers a weak smile, half lifting the scrolls as if displaying evidence. “So, good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” 

Shoto sighs. “Bad news should always come first. Less disappointing that way.” 

“If you say so,” the tribesman accedes easily, clearly trying for a nonchalance he doesn’t feel. “The bad news is that… we still have no leads on how the switch happened on our end.” 

He waves this aside, since it’s really only stating the obvious. “I thought as much, so that’s not really news, but go on. The good news, then?” 

Sokka offers a half-smile, raising the scroll in his hands. “Apparently there’s a delegation system in place that Zuko didn’t use.” The smile twitches down into a scowl for a moment. “Though I don’t get _why_. It’s like he’s purposefully making things harder for himself.” 

“And you’d know _all_ about _that_,” Toph interjects sweetly. “Wouldn’t you, Snoozles?” 

Iroh smiles ever-genially at the two of them before Sokka can retort. “Of course, I don’t approve of my nephew’s tendency to _overwork_ himself, but he does like to keep a finger on the nation’s pulse. If that means keeping track of and doing everything on his own, well… he’s never been easy on himself.” He sighs with a fond shake of his head. “Or very good at asking for help, for that matter.” 

“Well,” Shoto glances to the side with half a smirk dancing at the corner of his mouth. “Can’t say I’ve never been the same, myself. There was… a long stretch of my life where help wasn’t an _option_. At least, not one that was open to _me_.” 

Something in the air palpably _softens_, and the other four share a _look_. There’s something familiar, then, in his words, and Shoto can’t help but think again that whoever Zuko is, he is very, very lucky. But, also… that is probably a more recent development. And now the guy is basically a _king_ with all this responsibility on his shoulders... so maybe not _quite_ as lucky as all that. 

Iroh places a hand on Shoto’s shoulder, and, even through the multiple layers of the Fire Lord’s formal dress, he can feel its comforting warmth. The old man smiles up at him, still with the same steel sheathed in gentleness. He doesn’t say anything, but then again, he doesn’t need to. The support is tangible in the air… much like it is at UA, whether in class or in the dorms. 

Shoto smiles back, though it’s really only a small thing. He hasn’t been out of his father’s house for long, after all. He’s unpracticed. 

“It’s been a long day,” the man says, finally. “I think now would be a good time for us all to head to bed. After all.” Something in his smiles shifts, turns inwards. “A man needs his rest.” 

The interim Fire Lord chuckles lightly at that, and allows himself to be led through the palace halls to what he assumes in the royal suites. He’d get lost in the palace on his own, of course. It is likely that only those raised here would truly know their way around… Not a surprise, really. The palace is as baffling as the _rest_ of this world is, after all. 

The bed, at least, is less foreign and disconcerting than the rest of this place. A bed is a bed, after all, and this one in particular looks promising. Shoto has to wait, however, for servants to assist him out of his outer robes, as well as a final summary report of the day from some kind of steward. He does his best to be patient –he’s had plenty of practice with 1-A— but even he has his limits. 

He’s _tired_ and _confused_ and _stressed_. 

...he just wants to go _home_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to take this opportunity to recommend the works of a friend of mine: Anonymous_Wraith. They've kinda betaed for me for a while, and their own writing is pretty cool too. So you should totally check them out!
> 
> On another note, next chapter is going to take a while. I have a few other fics I'm going to be updating first, if you want to look at my other stuff... But, like, there _is_ going to be a next chapter... Several of them, in fact. So you have plenty to look forward to! In the meantime, comments and kudos are appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!


	5. Zuko, First Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of classes… Zuko has no idea what’s going on. And then there’s stigma against fighting without or not having Quirks, and he doesn’t like it.

For his entire life, Zuko woke with the sun, opening his eyes and becoming immediately aware of his surroundings. His entire life, that is, until he came to this strange world.

Waking here is a slow process. The sun barely coaxes him towards consciousness, cradling him in its warmth instead of prodding him to action with it. It’s gentle, in a way, reminiscent of the foggy memories he has of his mother that he keeps close to his chest. Nostalgic, almost.

When he finally realizes he’s been awake for awhile now, he blinks at the ceiling and wonders if every morning here would be so slow. So peaceful.

And then, of course, the peace is broken by a knock on the door. “Zuko? Sensei sent me to help you get ready for class.”

Rolling easily out of the bed, still dressed in his clothes from the day before, Zuko cracks the door open and peers out at Midoriya. “I’m attending your classes?”

The green-haired boy nods once, smiling brightly. “Yep! Sensei said it would help you settle in better and understand what our world is like while you’re here!”

“And to keep an eye on me?” He swings the door open wider with a slight smirk. “I doubt he’d leave me to my own devices.”

“That too,” Midoriya has the grace to look sheepish. “I mean, he didn’t say as much, but I kinda figured. You _did_ kinda appear out of nowhere…”

“Don’t worry.” Zuko waves off the other boy’s apologetic expression. “I get it. I’d keep an eye on me too, if I were him.”

The verdette lights up again, and holds out a bundle of grey cloth that hadn’t been there before. “Here’s your uniform! It’s a spare, so I don’t know how well it’ll fit you, but I didn’t think you’d want to stay in the same clothes all the time, and this way they can get washed… Plus, the school has a dress code, so…”

Zuko cuts him off with a small smile, accepting the clothes. “Thank you, Midoriya. I appreciate it.”

And he’s beginning to think that smile might rival even the sun for its brightness. “It’s no problem! I’m always happy to help.”

The chipper tone and earnest grin paired with wide, bright eyes is almost familiar enough to hurt, and Zuko wonders if everything would spontaneously burst into flames if Midoriya and Aang were to both exist in the same world at the same time. 

Probably best not to test that.

Midoriya leaves him to dress. Zuko handles most of the uniform alright, but the tie baffles him. He'd seen it tied neatly at the students’ throats, but he hasn't the foggiest idea how to do it himself. 

Eventually he huffs and gives up. He’ll figure it out later, when he can find the resources to learn. For now, he drapes the red fabric around his neck, picks up the satchel left just outside the door with his name scrawled on the top (_how can he read it? Does this world share the common tongue of his own, or is this more spirit magic? How can he understand their speech, for that matter?_), and makes his way down to the lounge room, hoping that someone would be there to tell him where he’s supposed to go now.

Of course, Midoriya is waiting patiently by the door, and shoots another smile at Zuko when he appears. “Ah, there you are! Need help with your tie?”

He does his best to ignore the heat in his cheeks when he admits, “I’ve never seen something like it before.”

Laughing good-naturedly, the curly haired boy leans in and fusses with the fabric, pulling back again with a light flush on his face once he finishes. “I’m not the best at tying ties myself, but it’s passing.”

Taking a glance at the other’s slightly lopsided knot, Zuko can’t help but think it’s still far better than he could have managed. He says as much, and Midoriya merely laughs it off again, and pulls him through the door with a gentle hand around his wrist so they aren’t late for class.

The classes themselves are a new experience for Zuko in more ways than one. Obviously the world is far more advanced than his own, with different guiding principles for the basic functions of existence, but oddly enough that is not the most jarring experience in walking into the classroom. Rows of seats with a student in each, all facing an instructor at the front— it seems to be a universal commonality. Except, again, Zuko has never had the opportunity to experience it, though he used to fervently wish to until it proved offensive to his actual teachers.

There were many reasons he resented his tutors, after all.

This teacher though, Aizawa, reminds him far more of uncle than his tutors (Or Lieutenant Jee? An odd mix between the two?). He’s not _soft_, not really, but he doesn’t have as many sharp edges, is less prone to violence. The students seem to regard him with a sort of fearful respect that Zuko is used to seeing in soldiers facing their commanders, their expressions ones of resolute determination tempered with acknowledgement of authority. A mix that Zuko has seen rarely over the course of his life, but more frequently in the past several weeks.

(<s>directed at _him_ of all people, but still looks he might never see again, if he can’t get back home.</s>)

The morning classes are not too difficult, compared to his old lessons, though the content is odd. Like, _Modern Hero Art History_? Why would you put _modern_ and _history_ in the same name? Mathematics, at least, is simple enough after budgeting a ship of two score men with limited resources provided by spiteful lords and merchants who didn’t always acknowledge their orders…

He doesn’t understand why they —the students _and_ the teacher— are so surprised when he tells them this. Being bad at math would have ended up with him and his entire crew dead and at La’s probably-non-existent-for-Fire-Nation mercy. 

The _afternoon_ classes, on the other hand, well… At first glance Foundational Heroics just seems like a fancy name for ‘training,’ which Zuko has had enough experience with throughout his life, but after some careful observation and the teacher’s assignment of ‘quirkless sparring,’ he is less sure. 

The students are terrible at fighting without their ‘quirks’— or at least most of them, though the one with the tail (Ojiro?) seems promising. Everyone else though? They’ll get killed before they even get a chance to _look_ at a battlefield. Agni, he could’ve beat them before he was banished! And this is a hero school?

“Have something to say, Lordling?”

Zuko glances up at Aizawa, then back at the students without bothering to hide his furrowed brow and twisted grimace (not that he would have been able to hide it all that well if he did try). “Almost none of them know what they’re doing.”

A sigh of agreement is not what he was expecting. The teacher glances sidelong at him with a look of… commiseration? “They rely too heavily on their quirks, and many of them don’t feel any urgency in exercises like this.”

Familiar, old embers of anger —banked, but never burnt out— flare to life in Zuko’s chest. Memories of Mai, Ty Lee, Sokka… all flit through his mind quickly, stoking the fire. The students’ disregard feels almost like an offense against his friends, some of the most dangerous warriors he has had the honor of meeting. He sets his mouth in a grim line of determination and asks Aizawa, “May I?”

Ah, so _that’s_ the grin all the students whisper about. Well, it’s enough of a confirmation for Zuko.

As he strides forward he falls back into his old Blue Spirit mindset, silencing his presence and preparing for battle. The last sparring pair breaks apart just as he steps right into the crowd of students in the audience, and the two (Yaoyorozu and Ojiro) glance over at the others’ startled cries once they notice Zuko in their midst. He continues, stepping up onto the mat and turning to face all of them, pulling from his experience as Fire Lord to craft a stern and unyielding mask of authority.

Silence falls, and he speaks, “I didn’t think people dedicating themselves to the path of a hero would be so casual and disrespectful.”

This ignites an immediate reaction amongst the more competitive students, though there are a handful who actually look like they’re paying attention.

Putting on his best _I’m the one talking now_ voice, Zuko speaks over the ruckus while Iida tries to contain the chaos, “There are many times where you can’t rely on power to save you. Believe me, I’d know.”

Slowly his audience calms by a handful at a time, seeming to hear the undertone of his words.

“Most of you know that I’m a firebender.” Here he shoots a quick, questioning glance at Aizawa, who nods in return. Zuko nods back and lights a small flame in the palm of his hand. “Fire can be dangerous, and in many situations if I use it I risk harm to myself and others. Where I come from, there are many forests and wide grassy plains and farmer’s fields. But does that mean I can’t fight?”

They’re completely silent now, eyes fixed on the flame in his palm with expressions of dawning realization.

“Of course, there’s also the fact that, in most of my world, bending fire is a death sentence.”

Gasps ripple through the crowd as friend turns to friend to make sure they’re not hearing this alone.

Ah, Zuko’s always hated speeches. “I helped end a hundred year war before I was switched with your classmate, but for years before that I was fighting and hiding in enemy territory. For you, anywhere could be enemy territory, and you wouldn’t even know.

“I’ve fought soldiers and commanders who think that fire is superior to anything else, and that it is a great dishonor to a bender if they learn any other weapon. But I’ve stormed a stronghold full of elite archers and powerful firebenders with only a pair of dao to rescue my enemy from a fate worse than death while completely concealing my identity.” Well, until after he got out, but his audience doesn’t need to know that. “What would you be able to do in that situation, without giving yourself away?”

There’s a few murmurs, but no one speaks up.

He shakes his head and closes his fist to snuff his fire, crossing his arms to keep from fidgeting under their silent stares. “I have friends with no powers at all except for the power of their body and mind, and in a one on one fight? They could kick my butt in a spar, easy. Ty Lee can poke you in five or six nerve clusters and you’ll be paralyzed.” Simplifying it, but they don’t need to know about chi blocking, either. “Mai is more accurate with knives than many bowmen can ever be. Sokka mastered the sword faster than anyone I know and forged his own from a fallen star. Suki and her warriors, whether or not they have their weapons, are a force unto themselves. Any one of them —all of them— have saved my life more times than I care to count.

“Even if you never have to fight without your quirks, you are dishonoring them by not taking this exercise seriously. It could be a matter of life and death for you or someone you swore to protect in the future, and unless you learn, you will be helpless.”

A tremulous hand is raised in the crowd, and he nods at them to speak up.

The students part to let Midoriya step forward. “You… you think people can save others without a quirk?”

“I don’t think,” he replies firmly, remembering the boy’s rambling admission (_a late bloomer, ostracized, belittled—_) when he first led him to the dorms. “I know.”

Oh, okay. Crying kid. Zuko looks desperately at Aizawa, because he should know how to deal with his students, right? But no, the man is only smirking at his discomfort. Fantastic.

Toph and Aizawa should never meet. 

But thank Agni, Midoriya’s friends are calming him down. Though now that the tension has shifted, well… the more competitive students seem to be taking the opportunity to make a scene. 

The spikey-haired blond, introduced as Bakugo at the start of class, muscles his way forward with a glower. “Are you trying to imply that we’re weak?”

“No,” Zuko deapans, returning the glare with one of his own. He tries not to feel too much amusement when the better part of the group flinches away. “I haven’t implied anything. In fact, I will flat out tell you that I can beat you in a hand-to-hand fight easily if neither of us are using our powers.”

“_Hah?_” Ah, yes, there’s the aggressive posturing. “I’ll take you on right now!”

Fire Lord Zuko smirks. “I’d like to see you try.”

This is going to be fun, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the reason this has taken so long to update is because, since starting this, I have started reading BNHA fics again… and kinda got caught up in them. Then my stupid brain just had to have ideas. And, because of who I am as a person, I now have no option but to write one. So! You get to vote (because I’m writing at least one of them anyway)! 
> 
> You have three options: 1) [Title: Empathic Psychometry] Izuku has a quirk and he hates/fears it, but still gets into UA and concerns the heck out of everyone; 2) [Title: Take These Broken Wings] Izuku has a quirk and he becomes a vigilante and creates a separate identity to get into UA, ft. Dadtective; and 3) [Title: To His Own Devices] Izuku is quirkless and joins the support department and accidently gets adopted by a lot of people, including a couple rather eccentric geniuses. Enter your votes below!
> 
> Votes will be open until 10:00 am EDT May 3rd!
> 
> **EDIT 05/03/2020:Voting is closed! ** Thanks for voting!  
Empathic Psychometry - 27 (wow you guys really like seeing Izuku suffer, huh?)  
Take These Broken Wings - 12  
To His Own Devices - 14


	6. Shoto, First Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s odd to feel like you know someone even though you’ve never met, but then again, this whole situation is odd enough as it stands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...hi.
> 
> Pros of this fic: I can have me some wholesome interactions between characters not in the same fandom.  
Cons of this fic: I got sucked into BNHA again, and am now subscribed to a bazillion fics… and have so many ideas… Also still can’t write Zuko or Todoroki in character lmao.
> 
> So this is partially a filler chapter because it was Shoto’s turn anyway, and I still need to decide how exactly the next chap is going to go down… because while it will be satisfying, there will obviously be fallout of some kind. Stew on that for a bit.

Honestly, Shoto kinda wishes he could just scream. It would be cathartic. Maybe he can? He’s technically the Fire Lord. Does anyone have the authority to tell him he can’t?

The people are walking on eggshells around him, and if even half of what Sokka tells him is true, that makes more sense than he’d like. All of the past Fire Lords sound awful. He can’t believe the amount of pressure Zuko must have been under, being raised alongside his apparently psychotic sister under the eyes of Ozai, and still turning out so _kind_, on all accounts. Shoto doesn’t think he would have managed it. Not when he became so cold and closed off with only his father.

Maybe Aang and the others were Zuko’s Midoriya. That would make a lot of sense.

“Fire Lord Todoroki…?”

Shoto turns from the window, hands folded behind his back, and acknowledges the servant at the door with a nod. “Yes?”

She steps inside, a tray balanced on one hand while she pushes the door open further with the other. “You weren’t in the dining hall with Avatar Aang and the others, so I’ve brought you lunch, my lord.”

“Oh.” He blinks and glances out the window again to gauge the time. “It’s that late already?”

The servant smiles, somewhat fondly. “You really are similar to our lord. The spirits chose their representative well.”

And _that_ is another thing Shoto doesn’t want to think about. Does everyone really think he’s a spirit? Not to mention… “How am I similar to Fire Lord Zuko?”

There’s something soft in the older woman’s gaze that reminds him of his mother, though her smile is half-hidden behind a respectful mask of deference. “You seem to often be caught up in your own thoughts, and you’re often seen deliberating with Prince Iroh, the Avatar, and his teachers. I hope it is not too forward of me to say, my lord, but I am glad to have such thoughtful and kind young men protecting us, even if that means you miss lunches on occasion.” 

“I’m certain you’d prefer not having to track us down though,” Shoto points out, moving towards the study desk and gesturing for the woman to set the tray down. “Surely it’d be easier, at least.”

She balances the tray over two stacks of books —the desk was completely covered long before Shoto showed up— and tucks her hands into her sleeves, smiling genuinely this time without dissembling. “You and Fire Lord Zuko both have put so much effort into taking care of us and your people, Fire Lord. It is the least we can do to take care of you in turn.”

He raises an eyebrow and the tray cover at the same time. “And this isn’t more work for the cook, to make an extra meal because I didn’t show?”

“I’m sure Cook wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he didn’t have to prepare an extra meal, my lord,” the servant laughed behind her hand. “Fire Lord Zuko eats more meals in here than he does anywhere else, usually with his nose stuck in some book or scroll.”

This woman is being uncommonly straightforward with Shoto, and it’s relieving, not having to dance around their expectations. In fact, this lady sounds downright _fond_ of her Fire Lord, and now Shoto by association, supposedly. 

Though she pouts a little now as something occurs to her. “We only just actually convinced him to _eat,_ however, even when he’s busy. He always kept putting it off until the food got cold. I do hope that this… turn of events won’t set him back…”

“Trust me,” Shoto assures, thinking about his own world and the friends he has there. “Where he is, I doubt _anyone_ is going to let him skip meals.”

Her shoulders lower, just the slightest bit. “I’m glad.” She bows low, hands pressed together in what he’s come to learn is called ‘the flame.’ “If that is all, my lord, I must move on to my other tasks.”

“Of course,” Shoto inclines his head respectfully. “Thank you for bringing me lunch.”

“It was my pleasure, Fire Lord Todoroki.”

And with that, he is alone.

Sighing, Shoto leans his hip against the desk and picks at the food —some kind of fish?— and wonders absently what he’s supposed to do from here. There’s the day-to-day running of the country, of course, but the nation is still recovering from a century-long war. Zuko has a list of tasks, half-crossed out and pinned next to his bed, for kami’s sake! The problem is that Shoto has no idea what _agricultural sustainability_ is, or how one is supposed to build up the foster care system that Zuko had created _from scratch_ —because apparently he had helped invent the very concept of systematically organizing putting orphaned children in financially and familially stable households.

At least Sokka and “Call-Me-Uncle” Iroh have figured out a delegation system, otherwise Shoto probably would have just straight up walked out of the palace to find a nice little forest to start his life as a hermit until all this weird spirit-quirk-magic stuff is reversed or wears off. Maybe Zuko would like the vacation when he gets back.

Shoto straightens and puts the cover back over his empty dishes. He’ll start with the foster care system, because Zuko at least left a name for him to go off for advice —a soldier turned advisor, by the name of Captain Sho, of the 107th regiment. 

...which, Shoto learns, was a regiment _made up entirely of children_. Would it be a bad idea to track down whatever prison Ozai is in just to punch him in the face? Because with every new thing he learns about how the man treated his family and his nation, the idea becomes that much more appealing.

Somehow, Shoto reins in his temper _(barely)_ and opens the study door to go track down this captain. 

Just as he steps into the hallway, however, his progress is arrested by the sudden appearance of Sokka, and his dramatic announcement of, “So! I had a thought…”

Too tired for the other’s particular brand of exuberance, Shoto raises an eyebrow and retorts dryly, “Should I declare today a national holiday to commemorate your achievement?”

There’s a snort behind Sokka, and Shoto glances around him to see Toph devolving into a fit of cackling, leaning on the wall to exaggerate her mirth.

Katara, standing smugly beside her, smiles. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you guys are _so_ funny,” Sokka drawls, shrugging it off and lighting up again immediately. “But! My thought! Since you actually, y’know, _delegate,_ that means you have more free time than Zuko, right? So why don’t you wrap up for the day, and we can give you a tour! See the sights out on the town, have some fun!”

“He just wants to see how you react to the extra spicy noodles sold by this vendor in the market square,” his sister informs cheekily. “Though I don’t think a _spirit_ would have any issue, hm?”

Are they… are they _both_ trying to bait him? Really? As if he’d fall for something so transparent...

...

He tosses the Fire Lord’s outer robes on the back of the study chair with a small smirk. “Count me in.”

\----------

“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!”

To the chanting of the gathering crowd, Shoto gulps down his fifth bowl. Who knew this world made such great soba? Sure, it’s not _cold_ soba, but their extra spicy version definitely has a kick to it he has learned to enjoy. _Especially_ with the reactions it’s getting him...

Sokka, slumped on the table next to him, stares with wide, horrified eyes. _“You’re not human.”_

Shoto flashes a rare grin in his direction. “Aren’t you all already convinced I’m a spirit?” He waves for the stall owner to prepare him another bowl. “Besides, this isn’t even that spicy.”

The Water Tribe boy groans at that and lets his head fall to the table with a _thump_ and a muffled “Inhuman, I say!”

Toph (who somehow managed to stick with them despite the jostling crowd) grins widely. “You owe me, Snoozles. I _told_ you.”

“Just because Zuko could beat me shouldn’t mean _this guy_ can!” Sokka protests, face red as he makes grabby hands at another glass of water. “It’s unfair!”

“If life were fair, you’d still have your real Fire Lord here,” Shoto comments off-handedly, finally passing his bowl aside to let the servers clean it. “And I’d still be at school instead of falling behind by running a country and trying to figure out how to help fully establish orphanages across several islands while juggling international debates about what to do with the colonies.”

Katara pats his shoulder comfortingly. “That’s what you have all of us and all the royal advisors for. Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to get you home.” 

He shrugs and pushes his chair back to stand, mind already wandering back to how he’s going to track down Captain Sho. “At least I don’t have to deal with Bakugo.”

“Bakugo?” Sokka echoes, falling in beside him as they turn their steps back towards the palace. “Who’s that?”

“A classmate of mine,” he answers neutrally —then, far less neutrally. “I’m pretty sure he has rabies.”

Sokka chokes on air at that, tripping over his own feet to the sound of Toph’s maniacal laughter. Katara just looks at him with wide eyes, as if he’s joking.

“And not Toph’s kind of rabies either,” Shoto adds, with the tiniest smirk as he adds fuel to the fire. “Like —oh, what do you call them— moose-lions? Those things. Given the chance, I sincerely believe he’d bite someone’s head off.”

If her expression is anything to go by, Katara is the opposite of reassured. “And he is where Zuko is?”

The Interim Fire Lord stops short at that, thoughtful. “Huh. That’s true. From everything I’ve heard about your friend… I wonder how that confrontation is going to play out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You and everyone else Shoto...
> 
> (Also yes, I'm aware that the ending is kinda abrupt, but I wanted to just get to the next chapter already... I'm sure most of you feel the same way.)
> 
> And hey guys! I now have a tumblr for my fic writing! @hfaithmarr if you want to chat or ask questions! Or my discord, https://discord.gg/CbWgjaT, if that’s your kind of thing. I will be giving chapter updates on both of those in the future, in case anyone wants a centralized location for that!
> 
> ..they’re also great places to hound me about writing the next chapter if I take, like, months again!


	7. Zuko, First Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun sparring time! And some Sifu Zuko action!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for! Drumroll, please! Combatants, enter the ring… Three… Two… One… Fight!

Zuko might be slightly worried about how often he’s slipping back into his Blue Spirit mannerisms, especially when juxtaposed with his Fire Lord ones, but he’s decided not to focus on that right now. Instead, he regards his new opponent, and wonders if Aizawa would be mad if he beat him up just a bit, or if he would appreciate having someone teach the arrogant blond a lesson.

He decides to test the waters as he faces Bakugo across the practice mats. Pointedly. “You know, I’ve known a lot of people like you. Powerful. Arrogant. Brash.”

The other boy growls, crouching in a terribly projected preparation to leap and tackle Zuko out of the ring. “Yeah? And did they beat you to next Tuesday too?”

“No.” Zuko smiles fondly at the memory of his Agni Kai with Zhao, even though he has never been anywhere near fond of the man and at the time was rather angry at everything. “The opposite, really. Though he _did_ try to throw a fireball at my back after. Sokka would call him a sore loser.”

Bakugo seems to take personal offense at this, despite the fact that he’s less like Zhao then he is most of the other fleet commanders and has no idea who Sokka even is. Still, he takes Zuko’s seeming distraction as an opportunity to attack, though the screech he lets out at the same time removes all chances of surprising him.

Not that there was much of a chance in the first place.

Now, Zuko had been prepared for a tackle as soon as the other had taken his stance, and so his response was already carefully prepared. Duck under him, grab his wrist and then the back of his neck as he flies past, follow up with Bakugo’s momentum to slam him into the ground, grab his other wrist and wrench both of them behind him, finally pressing down with one knee on his lower spine.

It is disconcertingly easy to pull off, all things considered.

The class is murmuring amongst themselves in clear disbelief, and Zuko catches a few snippets of their hushed conversations.

_“Did you even see him move?”_

_“He just snatched him outta the air!”_

_“I thought Bakugo was going to kill him.”_

Only when they fall quiet does Zuko realize that Aizawa is standing over them, eyes glowing red, and Bakugo has fallen still.

For some reason, Zuko is certain that a quiet Bakugo is a dangerous Bakugo.

“Bakugo,” Aizawa intones, not blinking once as he approaches. “When I blink, you will not try to blow up your opponent. You will rejoin the rest of your classmates without a fight. Understood?”

The student growls, which in all of Zuko’s experience generally isn’t considered an acceptable answer when one is asked _not_ to fight. He keeps his place, firmly pinning him, and waits for Aizawa’s dismissal.

Bakugo, however, seems to have other ideas, bucking abruptly when the teacher takes another step forward and nearly throwing Zuko off. A muffled, colorful string of curses follow, and some are used in creative ways that the firebender hadn’t even heard in his years with sailors.

Zuko merely tightens his grip, balancing himself more firmly and leaning further into the other boy’s spine until his voice cuts off breathlessly. White strips of cloth slip between Zuko and Bakugo and the former looks up in surprise, narrowing his eyes as Aizawa neatly divests him of his now-tightly bound opponent.

Now that he doesn’t need to focus on restraint, he rises and brushes himself off, starting violently when the watching class (that he may have slightly forgotten about) bursts into loud applause.

“Dude, you _have_ to show me how you did that!” A blond with a black bolt in his hair crows, punching the air. “That was crazy! One second he’s gunning for you then bam! He’s pinned and you win!”

“Zuko-kun!” A pink-cheeked girl pushes her way through the crowd, eyes glinting with something reminiscent of Toph. “Fight me next!”

As if that was some obscure cue, the rest of the class starts calling out their own challenges. Some want to fight him powerless like he had with Bakugo, others want to pit themselves against his fire, and a very small few want to see what they can do opposing his blades.

Just over the clamor for his attention, Zuko can just barely hear Aizawa’s sigh of resignation. The teacher merely watches tiredly for a moment before glaring —red-eyed— and raising his voice to silence the ruckus. “Since we won’t be getting anything else done it seems, we’ll postpone quirkless sparring. However, it’s up to Zuko whether or not he wants to fight any or all you hellions. Don’t pester him about it if he says no, and don’t pester me until the end of class without a very good reason.”

And with that he rolls himself into a yellow cocoon in the corner, leaving Zuko the sole focus of twenty competitive, dangerous teens.

A not-so-small part of him would rather be stuck in his office drafting a treaty and compensation proposal for the Northern Water Tribe, no matter the mental gymnastics required to make the finances work.

But then again… these kids are inexperienced and likely volatile for that lack of knowledge. Zuko, on the other hand, has a lifetime worth of training and actual field experience where he has fought for his own and others’ lives on multiple occasions. Maybe this will be a bit like Aang, and he’ll have something worthwhile to teach these aspiring heroes.

* * *

It’s second nature, after all this time training the Avatar, to keep mental notes on possible improvements and what could be fatal mistakes, even in the middle of vicious sparring. Both during and in between matches, he explains his own techniques, corrects his opponent’s form, and keeps a tally in the back of his mind of things he will suggest Aizawa follow up on in later lessons. He’s sure the man is already aware of how Bakugo’s temper could get him killed, as well as how recklessly Midoriya throws himself into a fight, no matter how calculated it is. Uraraka has the start of an impressive spatial awareness but not enough awareness of her own body and limits to make full use of her power without relying on it too heavily. Hagakure’s invisibility is a natural advantage, but one that is rendered useless against someone who can sense shifts in heat and who has trained themselves to detect the smallest change in the air, so that is something she should prepare for. The raven-headed Tokoyami (insistent that he is not a spirit despite his familiar’s crowing laughter) is too stationary even as he sends Dark Shadow into the fray.

It is Kaminari, however, that Zuko finds his attention caught on now. He’s as if someone took lightning bending and stuck it in a kid who has never needed to hold his emotions tightly enough to force himself calm, or needed to truly fear for his life, or needed to lay his life on the line for something so much bigger than him.

(Not yet, at least, but some small part of Zuko wishes that these kids never need to learn that lesson, and definitely not as harshly as he had to learn it.)

Watching Kaminari use his lightning is heart attack inducing without even being hit. All of that destructive energy buzzing unchecked just below his skin… And that one attack he boasts of, Indiscriminate Shock? Is an exact example of why Uncle invented the redirection move. Such a discharge cannot possibly be healthy, whether or not the kid has a natural resistance.

Which is why Zuko asks mid-fight, right after he redirects a mediocre blast of lightning that hardly tingles as it’s redirected, “Can you control the flow of your lightning, or only the creation of it?”

The question startles the other boy enough that it’s simple to pin him and wait for an answer.

“Uh… that kinda came outta left field man.” The blond shifts beneath him but relaxes again once Zuko’s hold proves solid. “I don’t have a lot of control of where I hit, no. I’ve mainly been working on upping my limit so I don’t go all stupid ‘cause of that.”

Zuko shakes his head in exasperation as he stands and helps his opponent up. “Good to know, but not my question. Can you direct the energy _inside_ of you? Your chi?”

“My what now.”

“Your spiritual energy,” another student chimes in (Ojiro, the one most likely to survive in a nonbending fight, but still lacking field experience) from where he’s been watching the spars intently.

“Exactly.” Zuko settles down into a stance and shows Kaminari the move he’s been using to deflect his attacks. “And directing your chi is crucial for any form of combat, but especially when you have an ability —like bending or your quirk— based on energy. Lightning is destructive, especially to the natural energy pathways of the body and spirit. Or at least, if it’s not directed properly. The heart and head especially have to be avoided with lightning, and so it is best directed through the stomach.”

“Is that why my brain shorts out whenever I overuse my quirk?”

Zuko pauses, straightening. “I’m sorry, _what?_ Your _brain shorts out?!_ And you keep doing it?”

“I mean… yeah? How else am I supposed to get stronger if I don’t push myself?”

Stifling a groan, Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose. Is this how Uncle felt? And Lieutenant Jee? He heaves a sigh and draws on old knowledge that really should have stuck in his stubborn head much earlier in life. “Pushing yourself too far only damages you in the long run. Believe me, I know.” He rubs the center of his chest absently. “Especially when it comes to lightning damage. The scarring is unpleasant. And the heart arrhythmia.”

“Excuse me did you just say _heart arrhythmia?!”_

Zuko waves him off. “Not the point right now.”

Kaminari gives him an incredulous look. “Dude we are literally talking about lightning damage here. I think it’s part of the point.”

“Your body’s more adapted to lightning, though, so I doubt it’s an issue you’ll have to worry about if you aren’t noticing it already.”

Opening his mouth to argue, Kaminari hesitates and frowns when he can’t think of an argument to that. He sighs and rubs his face with a hand, pointing at Zuko. “Okay, but we’re talking about how you know that arrhythmia is unpleasant later.”

A shrug is Zuko’s only response. He finally steps out of the sparring circle and waves for the next student to come forward, calling back to the blond. “Why don’t you practice meditation to get a feel for your chi? It should help with your control.”

Before Kaminari can get a word in edgewise Hagakure is bouncing up to take her turn. “Finally! Can you show me how you completely silenced yourself like that? It’s so cool!”

The other boy sighs again, shaking his head, and turns to leave the student and pseudo-tutor to their spar. Absently, Zuko notes that he’s headed in the direction Aizawa disappeared to once the lesson got out of hand, but he quickly turns his attention to the girl before him waiting eagerly for instruction. It’s always nice to feel appreciated.

She’s expressive, for an invisible person, leaning towards him excitedly as she catches his attention. Her uniform bobs in place as she waits impatiently to learn, filled with an eagerness that Zuko can’t help but smile at.

It’s easy to instruct someone who so readily accepts it, and Zuko only has to correct her stance a couple times before she’s managed to silence her footsteps. It’s slow going, still, but speed comes with practice, and she has lots of time for that. He recommends a few breathing exercises for her and reminds her not to rely on not being seen when there are other ways to locate someone. They spar a few times, but Zuko has trained himself to detect the slightest change in the air and, even invisible, she still gives off enough body heat for him to feel it if he focuses.

Still, her progress in such a short period of time is excellent. He’s glad for her, and makes a mental note to make sure Aizawa follows up on the skills he’s taught her so she can reach her full potential.

At the end of the lesson, after he’s sparred with each student who wanted to, there are still a few minutes that Aizawa decides to leave open as a general question-and-answer period. Zuko… would rather not, actually, but it sounds like a good way to gather some information of his own. He’s already been handed all of their fighting styles on a silver platter, after all, so more just-in-case reconnaissance can’t hurt.

(Bakugo, he notes, is standing in the back, arms crossed and eyes boring into him with enough venom that Zuko knows he should watch his back for the foreseeable future.)

The young Fire Lord, once again, stands in front of the gathered class of curious students.

Ashido, the one who reminds him of Ty Lee, jumps with her hand raised. “Where did you learn to _fight_ like that? You’re so good!”

Rolling his shoulders to loosen them up after so much fighting, he glances sidelong at her. “My father hired the best tutors since before I made my first sparks, and I’ve had plenty of hands-on experience over the past several years. Some of what I’ve used here I’ve adapted from the styles taught to my allies and enemies, but I’m still working with Uncle on how to integrate those better.”

“You’re adapting at least three other styles, right?” Ojiro pipes up, tail waving slightly behind him in interest. “Your main style, from what I’ve seen, is more active and attack-oriented. Your offense is your defense. But you’ve incorporated elements that look more like redirection and deflection that flow smoother, lower to the ground, and occasionally your stance turns more solid and you just take a hit instead.” He lowers himself to imitate the moves as he goes, focused and thoughtful. “Then there’s the opposite of that, where you’re mainly focused on avoidance, like with your spar with Bakugo. Light on your feet and almost dancing away from your opponent.”

Zuko nods throughout the other boy’s analysis, impressed. “Yes, exactly. Where I’m from, there are only four kinds of abilities that one can have —firebending, waterbending, earthbending, and airbending. Fire is more focused on offense, is more aggressive and quick. Water ebbs and flows, Earth is solid and immovable, and Air slips through any gap in someone’s defense or offense easily. Water is both extremely difficult for a firebender to adapt to, but also surprisingly compatible once it’s incorporated.”

“Like with that move you showed me to control my quirk?” Kaminari interjects, hand on his chin.

“Exactly.” He smiles slightly at Ojiro. “You have a good eye.”

The student brushes the compliment off with a light flush. “My family owns a dojo and I’ve trained in quite a few different styles myself. It’s easy to recognize after long enough.”

Zuko looks up as movement catches his eye and notes Aizawa’s approach, glancing back at Ojiro. “We should spar some other time, then.”

Ojiro returns the smile before following the rest of the class to the locker rooms at a wave of Aizawa’s hand.

The teacher holds Zuko back, waiting until the students are out of sight before sighing and looking down at the remaining teen. “Nezu has excused you from the rest of class so you can get acquainted with the school facilities. I’ve been told to show you around. Any place in particular you’re interested in?”

Honestly, it would probably be wise to spend more time thinking about his answer, but there’s one place back at the palace that he’s been missing terribly for a while now…

“You have a library, right?”

* * *

EDIT A/N: Because I don't know how to do it in the notes yet, I'll put this here... Upon request, have a puppy picture! You can thank RinAroundTheRosie and FiammaVolta! ^^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if the fight between Zuko and Bakugo is anticlimactic, but in my mind, while Bakugo is good for his age and circumstance, Zuko has literally been professionally trained from childhood and has hands-on experience fighting a war with plenty of life-and-death situations. So. Yeah.
> 
> Also, I warned about infrequent updates right? Right. Yeah, so I also have a new puppy now (and I love her to death) but puppies take a _lot_ of time and energy, so I'll have even less time for writing...? So. Yeah. Just apologizing ahead of time for how long it's going to take me to update again...
> 
> EDIT: forgot to say the Team Zuko counter has been updated with the arrival of Kaminari and Ojiro! Because they are Good Boys. And it’s out of seven instead of five now because I added a couple people... so it’s at 3/7 now!

**Author's Note:**

> Regular warning: slow updates, chaos, feels, you get the gist. Enjoy?


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